Reality is not alone

Sitting child with a pencil.
My whole life – only a squiggle in his notebook. Ile a drop of paint from a brush fallen into an album. Miracle vision did not see the mind. You can’t compare anything with him., not come true, no dream. I see the shell, reality is not alone. Superimposed layers, that look like a matryoshka doll, since you can compare with her, considerable mop. But compare layers, how anyway, what are you comparing a fork and a dining spoon. They have one clear goal, but the shape is a little different.
I'm not budging, moved from one layer to another, looking at the world and yourself, like a ladybug in your palm.
Our essence is motionless! Though we will run with a body, jump and jump. But we – that unshakable core, what keeps ours becoming stretched out through layers of reality.